Photo: Richard Gray
Kurt Vile has amassed a cult-like following since his breakthrough album in 2011. And the Kurt-cult isn’t bad at all – a wide cross-section of people, unpretentious, not inclined to thrust their phones in the air during the set, made up the audience last night at the Roundhouse.
Playing songs from both 2013's Wakin on a Pretty Daze and its follow-up, B’lieve I’m Goin Down, Kurt Vile sells his persona – summed up perhaps in his earlier album title Childish Prodigy – of the quiet, genius slacker. His influences – Beck, Pavement, Bob Dylan – are easy to pinpoint, but Vile’s melodies, in all their loveliness, are very much his own.
'Pretty Pimpin’' and 'Goldtone' are characteristic of his tilting, semi-psychedelic style. 'Jesus Fever 'doesn’t stray too far, though provides a notable shift in energy. 'Freak Train', played towards close, was unrelenting, loud and made room for a fittingly unusual saxophone solo.
Vile’s lyricism and singing style set him apart. People might suggest Vile can’t sing all that well; this is only relevant in the same sense that Bob Dylan couldn’t sing well. His muddled accent and nasal twang are charming, and the perfect delivery for his self-examining, observant lyrics. Vile manages to be at once melancholic and upbeat, perhaps why he resonates strongly with those who his music touches.
Kurt Vile is really best appreciated in a head tilted back, eyes closed, sun on your face, road trip kind of situation. A compliment no doubt, but even the expanse of the Roundhouse felt severely lacking in the open skies department, and sadly the intricacy and subtlety that characterises his music didn’t necessarily translate. Authentic, creative and idiosyncratic, Vile will likely deservedly maintain relevance in the music world.
